


"I'll be your lover, I'll be yours."

by MoxFirefly



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: M/M, au-ish, domestic of sorts, im not sure what i did here but yeah, wybrose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-26 21:17:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6256252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoxFirefly/pseuds/MoxFirefly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>There's an odd peace that takes over him, something so simple but necessary. Such a vital aspect of life that seemed to escape Dean's life is for once, right here.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	"I'll be your lover, I'll be yours."

**Author's Note:**

> It's 5am and I wanted to write.
> 
> Have my faves depending on each other.

There's no need to sum up the feelings. 

Aggravated souls and parched tongues but an ever lasting bitter taste right down the throat. Little things encrusted on his heart.

Everything has to be complicated, every god awful aspect about this life has to be complicated. At the end of the day that's fine, at the end of the day they can rest and hope their hands snuff out each other's lives.

It's another city night, the humming of cars and passers by gives him this constant soundtrack. Vegas is noisy by nature but in the noise he can drown out the frantic mileage of his brain. 

Just another night with clouds of menthol for Dean.

He sits on the windowsill, flicking ashes on an empty cup. For a brief moment he lets his gaze fall on the bed in this little plain room he's called his own and there on the bed, is his _own_. He exhales smoke through his nose and jots down tonight as the fifth night he's seen Bray actually a sleep. Two insomniacs and one brightly lit fucking place to call home, well for Dean at least. Bray hates the city, hates the noise and is probably only staying here to indulge Dean. It's interesting to see Bray in a shell of sorts, concrete jail around him and the buzzing of human's instead of insects surrounding him. For the most part he's seems fine but Dean knows his eyes all to well, understands that blue storm is reserved and calculating everything and anyone within arms length. 

Little lit ashes fall on his ankle, breaking him from his thoughts. He throws the cigarette butt into the cup and leans back. 

There's an odd peace that takes over him, something so simple but necessary. Such a vital aspect of life that seemed to escape Dean's life is for once, right here.

"C'mere." Bray's voice is soft, too quiet but Dean hears it and turns to look at him again. "I'm being quiet and you still wake up, fucking hell." Dean shakes his head, there's no way of tip toeing around this one. "Your heads pretty loud, always can tell." Bray shuffles out of the covers to sit up, the cold of the city still something he could not handle. "Stay out of my head then." Dean's bare feet pad over the carpet, he drops himself next to Bray. "Now, where's the fun in that? With how easily you run yourself ragged at these hours. Somebodies gotta be there to nudge out." Dean wants to deny it but instead he finds himself pressing his lips to Bray's arm. "I hope you freeze to death." Comes his muffled voice against the cold skin. Bray chuckles softly, his own lips coming to rest on top of Dean's head. 

It's a moment of rarity, a comfort that's foreign yet welcomed. Bray has that ability though, his very presence can shift the entire mood in a room. Dean jokes about whatever witch bullshit he pulls off but it's in moments like this one he's thankful. He's got this, he's got this feeling of belonging. When the cigarettes are gone and the booze isn't doing it, Bray's there existing near him and it's less bullshit, if only for a night or two.

Dean's lets his lips linger on Bray's arm, trailing kisses up to his freckled shoulder. "You ever wonder how fucked up we are for each other?" Dean lightly nips at his shoulder. "All the most renowned loves are, darlin." Bray lays back and lets Dean crawl on top of him, hovering over him like a ghost. "Even if we end up driving each other fucking crazy? You wanna stick around?" Dean's lips find Bray's neck and he dents the questions with his teeth. His answer comes with a forceful kiss and Dean gets it, with a tug to his lower lips and a scrape of teeth to his jaw, he fucking gets it. Every question will be met with an answer, he may or may not like it.

This one though, he very much likes.

He warms up Bray's cold skin pretty fast, litters his neck and chest with bites to last him a week. Fingers entangle in brown locks and Dean suddenly doesn't mind choking to death with how hard and long he's been kissing Bray. 

It's the this and that, the pushing of clothes and spit coated hands and Dean's slowly running a hand up and down his and Bray's cocks. Languid yet insistent pumping that leaves him breathless. Bray's burying his face against Dean's chest, hands running down his lower back. "You're mine." Is Dean's breathy moan, eyes glued to Bray's and a covetous statement that's pushed down Bray's throat ever so _lovingly_. "God, you're so fucking _mine_." Dean moans out, thumb swiping over both his and Bray's cocks and there's desperation bitten against his chest. Bray tries his best to thrust into Dean's hand, hard length against Dean's own only adding more heat, more need to cum. He lets Dean's desires run across his skin, his demands and pleas wash over him. He'll nod or groan out a _yes_ to make sure he knows. 

He belongs to Dean, just as much as Dean belongs to him. 

A quickening pace and frantic hips are thrusting almost in unison. Dean tips over first but quickly followed by Bray, both their releases coating Dean's hand and the rest falling on Bray's stomach. Dean's kissing him, trying to take oxygen for himself and Bray lets him.

He wraps his arms around him tightly and lets him.


End file.
